Rainbow Lust
by Mini Peacelet
Summary: Prequel to Lip Service based upon Sam Murray's monologue. As she qualifies in the force as a cop. She faces a learning curve in more than one aspect as the charming Jen enters her life.
1. Chapter 1

_Rainbow Lust - Part 1_

"You look absolutely fine, stop fussing."

Pirouetting sharply on her toes, Sam's features adopted a fretful expression with lips twitching into a narrow, apprehensive laugh. She tugged at the sleeves of her crisp, white shirt repeatedly to remove hints of crinkles, adjusted her checkered tie and pushed a couple of stray locks of hair neatly behind her ears.

Her stomach fluttered anxiously. _Violently_. The plurality of the night exhausted by edgy tossing and turning; composure perished with restlessness. She had surrendered to her attempts of sleep during the early hours and tensely stalked around the flat. Time had virtually stopped, ticking laboriously lethargically. Until now. Seconds bounced into minutes.

Sam's very first day as a freshly qualified officer was rapidly approaching. Her shift was now daunting minutes away; not hours, or _days_.

"Calm down, Sam." The reverberation of her fiancé's voice still lacked the consoling elements she craved, failing to comfort, "You have completed your training, this is what you've spent the last year working towards. Sam, you are a qualified copper now! You can do this, you are ready."

Mike dropped the teaspoon onto the counter and planted the steaming mug of coffee into the brunette's trembling hands, "Drink this, you'll thank me later." Gentle lips brushed against hers delicately, "Now, _relax_."

" _Relax_?!" She scoffed subsequently as she deposited the coffee onto the table and flopped heavily onto the sofa, "It's easy for you to say. This _shit_ just got real. It's different." Her thick northern accent was slurred with panicked nerves, "Before, I wasn't fighting _real_ criminals. They were just practice. These people I arrest on the streets will have committed a proper crime."

"Yes, and you're prepared for this." A reassuring hand patted her shoulder with merciful compassion, lips colliding once again with tender lust.

The young female inhaled a couple of deep breaths, stabilising her jittery nerves and regaining a cool personal ambience. "Yeah," she breathed, "you're right. I'm just being silly." Her lips flickered into a little smile as she collected her jacket, bag and keys, "I'd better get going. See you later." She pecked his lips and departed briskly.

* * *

Luckily, the nerves that fluttered and twisted in the brunette's stomach had vanished. Fading away into the horizon. She was grateful. Upon entering the staff room, her tension had been substituted for a more positive adrenaline rush and exhilaration saturated her veins. This was finally real, so very real.

Sam was a qualified cop, and instantly felt at home in the midst of her fellow peers much to her surprise. She dispensed herself a mug of freshly brewed coffee from the pot, then slumping into a plastic chair that were situated in a row at the side of the room. The space was filled with officers of varying ranks.

And the female patiently awaited her very first briefing whilst savouring and enjoying her black coffee. Murray couldn't wait to tackle her first mission, prepared to grasp the challenges ahead.

"I'm Jen. Jen Smith." The other newly qualified officer, who had been partnered with Sam, introduced herself as they walked out of the station, spelling a comfortable stride.

Jen had a bubbly and peppy charisma lacing her words; gracefully spirited. A warm grin with pearly-white teeth and an infectiously cute giggle. Her deep, azure orbs sparkled like freshly polished diamonds, brimful with her witty yet clever charm. Angelic blonde locks cascaded in an ocean of indulgent satin, restrained in a tidy ponytail that revealed the beautiful curves to her face and silky complexion.

And attribute, saucy red lips. _Kissable lips_. Glossy and smooth, teasingly pungent and quirky. Much like the woman who sported them exquisitely.

"Officer Murray." She responded simply, a briefly expanded clarification consisting of one word following, "Sam."

"Well, DC Sam Murray." A sassy grin was embraced, "Looks like we're buddies! Isn't that just awesome?!"

"Great. Just _great_."

Sam lacked the zealous ardor for her associate, rather unimpressed and infuriated at the pairing. Smith was the one _only_ new recruit who had been criticised for absence in achieving the required standards of uniform. Her attire had been crumpled, tie loose around her neck and compulsory hat no where in sight. And she didn't even appear phased at her reprimanding. She was relaxed and easygoing. Breezy perhaps. It was questionable whether she was actually police material.

It was going to be a long shift on the beat.

Silence loitered over the pair, basked as they paced the streets of Bradford with attentive eyes peeled for any indication of trouble. Jen fractured the muted atmosphere a short while later, subsequently to something capturing her concentration and stimulated her curiosity, "That's a nice ring."

Murray dipped her head, snatching another glimpse at the tiny jewels on her left hand that twinkled and winked adoringly in the dazzling sun rays, "Thanks." Polite and sincere following a brief pause, "I got engaged a couple of months ago to my long term partner." The topic was kept short and sweet; she had refused to mix work with pleasure.

"You're brave. I couldn't do it, not this young anyway. I'm not ready for the commitment; I prefer the spontaneous adrenaline that accompanies liberty. Clubs and parties are more of my thing instead of nights at home cooking dinner and watching shit television." She laughed lightly, entire demeanour friendly, zesty and lively, "I am seeing someone, though. Her name's Lisa. And it's pretty sweet."

The marginally older female nodded, "Well, I guess when you meet ' _the one_ ' it's all different." Shoulders jerking in the approximation of a shrug, her attention was arrested elsewhere by a foul scent that suffocated her nostrils and a fragment tumbling onto the pavement. Saved from the conversation. "Can you smell that?" The question was rhetorical and she accelerated into a jog before receiving an answer. "Hey! What are you smoking?"

"A cigarette."

Sam scoffed harshly at the dully palpable answer, running her tongue over her dry lips momentarily, "Don't state the obvious with me."

He smirked a conceited, provoking grin whilst inhaling another lengthy drag of the roll up propped between his thumb and middle finger. The exhaled smoke was rapidly masking the aroma that had struck the copper's interest. Combined with a minty flavour that simply added to her escalating suspicions. _A disguise_.

"I have reason to suspect that you are in possession of a controlled substance." Authority stamped her tone; austere and solemn.

Murray's eyes swivelled fleetingly to scan her colleague's attitude and expression. Hoping for some form of reinforcement. But Jen had oddly faded into complete silence - for the very first time since they had departed the station.

"Nah," The male confidently shook his head, "Not me."

"I'm not stupid, I can smell it. Empty your pockets." It wasn't a request, instead a sharp instruction that demanded obedience. There was nothing, though. Nothing suitable. Just a packet of legitimate, tobacco cigarettes and a lighter.

Cigarette butts scattered the pavement against the brick wall side, abandoned and smothered. She was positive that one of those ends was associated to him. The mint he chewed and the fresh fag he smoked were just to conceal the scent of drugs.

"Let him go, Murray. He hasn't got anything."

"What?!" Sam's dark orbs expanded significantly as she nimbly whirled round to engage contact with her partner, fury plastered to her features while her fingers curled into clenches, "You must be kidding! It stinks of weed! I saw him drop something as we approached!"

"Yeah, and there's nothing on him. So without solid evidence there is nothing we can do. Come on." Smith rolled her eyes and tucked her hands into her trouser pocket, manner dismissive of the entire situation.

"We, _I,_ was on to something! He should have been taken back to the station for a proper search!" Exasperated hisses laden with venom dripped from the cop's lips, furious that her impending case had been totally dripped. Her hands propelled into her pockets whilst she stomped after her _buddy_.


	2. Chapter 2

_Rainbow Lust - Part 2_

"How was your first day?" Muscular arms greeted Sam, enveloping her frame into a fuzzy embrace. Accompanied with a tender kiss planted on her lips whilst he studied her unblemished features. A stressed, perhaps frustrated, expression.

" _Shit_." The words were exhaled with a swirled breath as she twisted from his grasp and propped herself against the sparkling counter in the kitchen. Opaque azure orbs burdened the strains of her day, trapped with and masking her lustful and cordial twinkle.

Sam raked her slender fingers repeatedly through her satiny hair. Her fiancé gazed at the sleek black appliance that plainly displayed his lover's actions in a polished reflection. The tale of her very first day tumbled from her lips, reminiscing how she had no choice but to allow her suspected criminal to slide away. Then springing into a vent about Jen.

"I just want to prove myself. That I can do the job."

The brunette's voice began to waver, fingers curled into fists. A flash of naked vulnerability adopted her mien, plastering her flickering eyes, twitching lips and creasing forehead. Stripped of her composed demeanour. The pressure had stolen her poise for that split minute. She doubted her capabilities towards the career she had trained so hard for.

"And you _can_ do the job." Mike's tone was slurred with assurance - comfort that she needed to hear right now in her moments of hesitation - as he gripped her hands tightly. Solemn and sincere, yet reflective.

He shifted towards the refrigerator, opening the door and retrieving a beer. With the top removed, the bottle of beer was deposited into the cop's palm, though she vaguely acknowledged that it was actually there.

"Take that and go have a relaxing bath while I make us some tea." A gently nudge was granted in the direction of the ascending stairs.

Sam appeared to regain focus promptly, halting abruptly and dropping the untouched beer bottle onto the side with a shake of her head. "No. I'm going for a run instead. If I've learnt one thing, that is to channel any negativity and stress into something positive. I'm not going to let her get to me."

With a nod, Mike spoke again, "Okay, do you want me to leave your food heating in the oven for whenever you want it then? I've got a night shift tonight, so pushed for time and all that." His Shoulders jerked in the approximation of a shrug, northern accent thick.

She blew out a breath, "I forgot. Sorry." Their lips collided again fleetingly. An apologetic kiss. "You get yourself something and don't worry about me. I'll make something later."

* * *

Her boots pounded against the pedestrianised roads in a beating cacophony, arms pumping in a fierce rhythm. Sam raced the streets of Bradford. Determination and focus fixed across her features while she chased the criminal in his quest to escape the clutches of the police. She was going to arrest her very first illegitimate. This male was going down and she was prepared to conquer this battle with whatever it demanded.

Jen and Sam had received report of a theft occurring via their radio systems just around the corner and Murray had instantly leapt into action, accepting the impending challenge of catching the culprit. It was only round the corner from where they patrolled. The blonde had reluctantly accelerated into a run in a feeble attempt to maintain pace with her partner.

She rejected the cramping sensation that burned her legs, compelling herself to persist the pursue and endure the long distance sprint. The gap between herself and her prey was shortening, injecting her with that extra adrenaline boost she needed. "Police! Stop right there!" Now that the space was minimal, she roared at the top of her lungs.

Just as she had hoped, the adolescent made an error, peering over his shoulder momentarily whilst clutching his bag to his chest as he ran. Failing to perceive where he was going caused him to stumble over the jagged surface of the pavement. The cop gratefully seized advantage of the opportunity and launched herself onto the felon, restraining his arm behind his back.

"Got ya!"

Murray fumbled with her cuffs, snapping one around the pinned wrist and reaching for the other arm whilst she regulated her breathing. But she was suddenly grasped forcefully from behind, hurled off the male and onto the tarmac road. Engulfed in her first proper arrest, she had forgotten a very important police rule. _Always be vigilant to your surroundings._ Another man had hopped out of a vehicle and grabbed the officer, an associate of the robber.

"Get off her!" Smith's raspy voice was breathless yet stamped with harsh authority as she yanked the bloke off her buddy and held him to the ground with ease while she handcuffed him. She may have been dainty but she was strong. "Assisting in a robbery and assaulting a police officer. Today really isn't your day is it."

Sam scrambled to her feet in an instance and resumed her hunt after the lad who she had managed to catch a glimpse of now hiding behind a wall. She made her attack and finally collared the teen and fitted the handcuffs properly.

"I am arresting you in suspicion of handling stolen goods. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention now anything you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence." She bubbled with confidence and a great internal feeling as she reeled off her caution for real this time. She had just successfully mastered and arrested her first criminal. At long last beginning to contribute to making the country a safer and better place - well Bradford, at least. _Tiny steps_.

* * *

"Thank you," The brunette shattered the muted aura that hovered comfortably in the restroom, perched upon a pew at the counter in the kitchenette with a coffee, "You know, for _earlier_." Lips pursed, her gratitude was sketchily amplified.

The room was vacant now, excluding Murray and Smith. The other cops had filed out subsequently to grabbing their belongings, marking the end of the shift. Jen pirouetted on her toes sharply, dazzling eyes converging to her colleague with a cheerful and spirited grin.

"Oh, it's no problem, Sam." The miniature make-up mirror in her clutches flicked open, lipstick tube lid popping off simultaneously, "Don't worry about it, that's what buddies are for!" A precise layer of ruby red was applied generously to her lips.

"I mean it." The older woman highlighted her appreciativeness even after the dismissive comments, shuffling to the sink to rinse her mug before pacing to her locker. She twisted the key and shrugged her jacket over her shoulders, wrapping her woolly scarf securely around her neck.

The pleasant silence was basked as both females assembled their possessions. Jen shut her locker and door and removed the key, dropping it into her handbag. She paused, lingering beside the mechanised door, "Sam, do you fancy coming for a drink? With me and Lisa."

"Uh-" Sam faltered over her words, shuffling restlessly on her feet as she pressed her hands deeply into her pockets, "Well, I, um, I...it's a work night, I don't drink on a work night. Thanks for the offer, though."

A sweet giggle drifted from her saucy red lips, "Can't handle your drink, Murray?"

"Yes, of course I can." She nodded, "It's just not professional to risk a hangover is it?"

The blonde shrugged slightly, "Who says anything about a hangover?" She clamped her right hand around the bitterly cold door handle, "Another time maybe?"

"Maybe."

And with that, the two newly qualified cops departed and left in separate directions.


	3. Chapter 3

_*a few weeks later*_

 _Rainbow Lust - Part 3_

At night, the city whirred with smouldering life. Dusky shadows of darkness immersed the streets, chasing and fading the final traces of natural light away. A luminosity of subtle orangey-yellows, sourced from towered flickering street lamps, added a sense of warmth to the crisp night.

Party and adrenaline aspirants were surfacing, alcohol flowed generously. Cacophonous music blasted from clubs, reverberating the city centre's invisible walls, combined with the drunk chatter and giggles of intoxicated humans. Strident colours of disco lights bounced off the pavements and walls in a spiralling motion.

Sam and Jen patrolled the streets, pacing back roads repeatedly. Their presence was to protect the tranquility and peace of Bradford, attentive for any unsociable behaviour or people in distress. The night was quiet so far. But also incredibly young. Midnight was approaching, the bars and clubs were yet to reach their complete climax.

"Well this isn't frightening at all, Murray, glad I wore me nappy." Smith's northern accent was rich, enhancing every word as she laughed blissfully. The nights had the potential to be the most tricky, and perhaps dangerous. Some crimes were more susceptible to the dark. There was a significant increase in booze levels.

"Mm, I wouldn't speak too soon." The older woman muttered while continuing to amble with her hands slipped into her pockets. They were still learning. She had witnessed some of the awful events that were capable of unfolding at night during police training. Things could go from impeccably tranquil and calm to fiery and raging in moments.

Both participated in hosting an idle conversation, discussing random topics and leisurely learning new information about each other. Small talk. The brunette was most vigilant to her surroundings, braced for trouble; Jen was content to immerse herself in the subject with passion.

A fight had launched in the near horizon as they turned the corner. Two males were viciously fighting one another, young females screaming and squealing from the side. An audience was assembling. Some chanting encouragement yet none attempting to prevent the violence.

They sprinted towards the equally physical and verbal conflict, arms pumping and feet thundering. Shrilling voices instructing for innocent bystanders to move out of harms way, alerting their presence as cops. With a joint effort, the duo tore the blokes apart, pouncing and wrestling them to the ground despite the fierce battle of defence delivered. Restrained and cautioned under the act of law, it was time to assess the situation and appropriate action.

* * *

Hours had passed. The heart of the night had arrived, time intolerably sluggish. Being handcuffed to a criminal was not a joy. _Drunk, vile felons_. It was one of the worst dimensions that accompanied the job. But the offender's they had arrested required medical attention that couldn't be postponed. So both cops escorted and guarded a culprit each. Questioning and charging would have to wait.

Accident and emergency was exceptionally busy; as always on a weekend night with unfortunate party and thrill seekers flooded the floors. The brunette's peace breaker was first to be called by a nurse who would treat the lacerations he had obtained. For ages he had tugged at the handcuffs and created a nuisance of himself as well as testing the officer's patience to the absolute limit. But for the last quarter of an hour he had subdued and piped down, though his awkward attitude was yet to fade.

"Get up, Reid." Her teeth were gritted impatiently as she hauled the man to his feet against his objections, "Now move, and don't even think of causing anymore chaos or disorderly behaviour."

He staggered a couple of faltered steps and stopped abruptly. Sam was about to speak but her words were replaced with a repulsive grimace and nauseous gag as the male projectile vomited all over her without warning. A booze inflicted consequence.

The only clothing available for her to switch into was a set of hospital scrubs. Thin scratchy cotton in ceil blue. Sam reluctantly peeled off her own police uniform and changed into the hideous attire supplied, desiring for her shift to end so she could vacate to her home. _To Mike_. The detail that she hadn't even been able to salvage her loved black trousers added to her frustration.

Murray trudged back into the dreary yet buzzing corridors, stalking in search of her partner and an update regarding their criminals. "Any news?" A bland inquiry with her hands shoved into the pockets of the scrub bottoms, face dipped to the floor allowing a few loose locks of thick, chestnut hair to cascade and conceal her features.

"Nice outfit, by the way." The younger blonde twitched her shoulders in the approximation of a shrug, "Reid is being treated in cubicles with a male doctor and nurse - handcuffed to the bed and with his paralytic state there's no real concern of him going far. I'm waiting for Ashton to come out of x-ray."

Sam processed the information swiftly, acknowledging with a meek nod. There was still no sign of this awful night ending any time soon. She was going to have to embrace her new attire.

"That shade of blue really suits you, you know, it compliments your complexion greatly." A teasing smirk danced upon her lips, head titled to the side marginally.

"Shut up." Short yet sharp. Grumbling, she lifted her head promptly, shooting an ominous glare at her buddy.

Jen exhaled a melodious giggle, tucking a stray blonde curl behind her ear neatly, followed by a playful nudge in the ribs, "So you don't fancy a career change? To a nurse, in such a _sexy_ uniform." Jokey and torment slurred her manner as she battled and failed to maintain a straight face.

"Here," She extracted a note from her pocket, pressing it into her work partner's hand securely, "Go get us both a coffee. Add a couple of shots of something stronger if you like." The expression confirmed that she was only joking; Sam was beginning to understand her bubbly sense of humour, "Reid should be discharged soon, they will nearly have finished suturing his wounds. And if Ashton's x-rays are clear then he's good to head back to the station too."


	4. Chapter 4

_Rainbow Lust - Part 4_

"Come on, Murray!" Jen implored zealously, tongue running over the edge of her red lip's lightly, bright eyes glittering with gorgeous plead, "Everyone else is coming. I'm bringing Lisa too. Just come for a few drinks...relax and chill!"

Hesitantly, the other cop nodded meekly, "okay, fine." She pushed her fingers through her hair and her lips curled into a small smile, "I'll come. When and where?" Beaming contently, the younger female promptly reeled off the name of the pub and time they had all planned to meet.

The brunette had just enough time to head home and change her clothes and quickly make something to eat. Just a basic salad. Drinking on an empty stomach never ended well. Punctuality was key to her and exactly on time she entered the blaring pub that reeked of stale alcohol and BO.

Of all the ale house's in Bradford, they had chosen to assemble at the one that accommodated all the locals who had gathered to watch the football and get drunk. The blokes were rowdy, downing pints persistently and cheering at the television, as well as arguing with opposite supporters.

Sam rammed her way through the crowds and swiftly traced her colleagues and a few unfamiliar faces. They had settled round a generous table. Pitchers of unrecognisable cocktails, rows of shots and pints of beer had collected in the centre of the dark oak.

"Sam!" It was her buddy that captured her attention, tapping the empty seat beside her as a prompt with her right hand. Her left hand was intertwined with another woman's - Sam presumed it was Lisa. A dark-haired female of a similar age, milling over a pint.

The introductions were brief but warm. Everybody participated in conversation's whilst relishing the alcohol that seemed to make the talk flow that bit easier. Some of the party shifted to the pool tables after a while, others with families or lover's at home departed. Jen, Sam, Lisa and another female from the station congregated round one games table, diving into two obvious teams.

"Nice shot, Murray!" The blonde praised with a grin as she guzzled another tequila shot without a flinch. "Come on, Lis." Stepping forward, she planted a kiss on her girlfriend's neck, rubbing her shoulder's gently, "you can get this-"

They were interrupted by Lisa's phone ringing, "You'll have to take it, darlin'. I've got to take this, it's work." she pressed the cue stick in her direction and shuffled towards the corner to accept the call.

Lisa returned a couple of shots later, mobile phone tucked back into the pocket of her jeans and she collected her jacket from the chair, "I'm sorry, but I've got to go. That was my boss. They've got a big story coming in and I need to go in. This could be my chance to get the break I need as a journalism. I'm sure you'll understand." She captured her lover's lips, savouring the lingering taste of alcohol she had consumed, "I love you." She whispered as she pulled away, "It was nice to meet you both. Bye everyone."

"I should probably be heading off too. I've got a shift at the station tomorrow afternoon!" The two cop partner's were soon left alone and continued to play pool until they had potted all the balls and finished the game.

"Let's go outside, I want a fag."

The dusky air was moist with drizzly rain, bitter from the wisps of harsh winds and plummeting temperatures accompanying nightfall. The brunette tugged her leather jacket further around her frame, though it was far from a decent barrier of the adverse weather. It wasn't an appropriate garment for the climate, providing little protection and warmth.

Jen shuddered at the coolness, stepping back under a doorway that granted some shelter from the wind and fine precipitation. Rummaging in her bag, she retrieved a cigarette and propped it between her lips. Hands cuffed the end as she flicked repeatedly at the lighter until she successfully lit the roll up.

"I've got these tickets." A puff of white smoke hovered from her lips as she exhaled, tapping away excess ash, "There's a new jazz bar opening in town tonight. I was going with Lis, but she's otherwise occupied." Misery hinted her words delicately, wretched by her lover's importance for work, "Do you wanna come instead?"

The potent orange glow of the cigarette end radiated the dark corner, highlighting and crafting the striking bone structure of Murray's face. Exquisite shadows enhanced her prominent cheek bones, coating the soft tender curves and crests that arced her sensational features. Cheeks blushed with a rich colour and azure orbs twinkling like freshly polished diamonds. Her dark eye make-up was smudged, yet it still looked impeccable. A natural imperfection.

Sam dipped her head, chestnut-colour locks tumbling from behind her ears and cascading like silk over her face. Her lips twitched - perhaps slightly awkwardly - tiny crease marks materialising at the edges of her lips while she pursed over her response.

"Sorry," The apology drifted from her mouth quickly, cutting the brutal silence, eyes darting as she inhaled another long, craved drag from her cigarette, "that was too forward of me, I didn't think. You have a fiancé at home, and I don't even know if you like jazz music. I know it's not everyone's taste-"

"Stop." It was simply a murmur but the other cop instantly fell quiet. She tilted her head, features embracing a kind smile, "Are you kidding?! I adore jazz. It's _like_ my favourite. I'd love to come, thanks." An infectious laugh was shared, the younger women grinning broadly as she stubbed her cigarette out and Sam flagged down a taxi.

They entered the club a short while later. A spacious room immersed with calm blue light, adorned with additional white fairy lights suspending high from the walls. A live band played on a small stage fixated in the corner; a symphony composed from piano, bass and drums.

The bar ambience was a complete contrast to the rowdy pub from previously. Sophisticated and tranquil, peaceful chatter hummed beneath the music from couples and small groups as they basked the harmonies and drank elegant wines.

"Can I get you a drink?" The pointy heels of the blonde's stilettos clattered against the polished floor as she confidently stalked to the gleaming bar and hopped onto a vacant pew.

She pushed her hand into the pocket of her leather jacket and removed her purse, "No, I'll get them. No buts." Though light and cheery, her manner clutched a stern edge as she perched on the stool beside her colleague, "You bought the tickets, so I'm buying drinks."

"Well, in the case, I'll have a red wine. Please." Her words were abundantly bubbly, combined with merry giggles from the alcohol she had already consumed that evening. She didn't look up as she replied, occupied with rooting through her bag to locate her mini make-up mirror and signature lipstick.

"Wine?!"

Jen arced her perfectly shaped eyebrow, pressing her lips together to ensure equal application of ruby red, "Yeah? Why'd you sound so surprised?" _Innocent_.

A tickled chuckle was suppressed as she raked her slender fingers through her hair, "You were drinking beer earlier, _and_ tequila shots. Most people attend to not warrant themselves a guaranteed hangover from hell."

Shoulders were jerked dismissively as she clicked the mirror shut, "You only live once, Murray. What's the point in having a night out if you don't get completely smashed?" Teasing laughter slurred her speech, "are you afraid that you can't handle your booze? Or is it the impending threat of a monster hangover that may just try to _kill_ you!?"

Sam rolled her opaque eyes with an amused scoff, pulling out a couple of notes from her purse, "A bottle of your finest red wine, please. For two."

"And a round of double jäger bombs."

Her orbs expanded significantly, practically choking on thin air with a splutter as breath accumulated in the back of her throat. But the brunette didn't object. Instead, she simply handed over the money, politely thanking the bartender for their beverages.

They idly chatted about random topics; some work related, some more personal. Their knowledge of one another was starting to multiply, a friendship blossoming. Neither would have ever suspected that they could actually have so much in common and get along that well based upon their very first days qualified in the force. Some six weeks ago.

The sweet wine was sipped upon, the spirit of live melodies echoing around the club in contagious spirals. Shots downed, followed by inflicted giggles and coughs as the straight alcohol burned the back of their throats. The aura was alive, yet it was so delicate and classy. No swearing, shouting or potential drunken fights. All was in control. Young professionals having a cordial, enjoyable time.

The songs varied, covering a diverse range although all trailing the chosen style. Jazz. A blend of classic songs to upbeat tunes and even the latest chart songs with a jazz twist. Sad lyrics about heartbreak to soppy love songs and romantic slow dances, then buoyant and joyful songs that hauled everyone to their feet.

"Ahh, I love this song!" _Mr Brightside_. Jen's northern accent was even more pronounced when she was tipsy. Words and thoughts intoxicated with giggles. She leapt to her feet, stumbling on her ridiculously high shoes and grasping the bar stool to balance herself. "Come on, we _have_ to dance to this song!"

The older woman was yanked to her feet instantly by the hyperactive cop, spluttering on the latest jäger bomb she had recklessly knocked back, the pure booze igniting a flame that smoulder all the way from her throat to the pit of her stomach. She groaned. Her head was splitting, room spinning. In the midst of their merry laughter, they danced together. Embracing the lively music and splendid company.


	5. Chapter 5

_Rainbow Lust - Part 5_

"Mike? Is that you?" The words were barely audible, a slurred mumbled with her drowsy state as she aroused from her slumber subsequently to hearing a clatter in the kitchen. Sam pried her eyes open, estranging her ambitions to tumble back into her sleep.

She shifted beneath the blanket, pushing herself onto her elbows whilst her vision orientated and crisped. Wriggling, the cop freed her limbs from the tangle with the throw and planted her feet on the wooden floor, cautiously regaining her equilibrium. Her skinny jeans had been abandoned on the abstract rug earlier that morning when she discovered that it was impossible to get comfy whilst wearing them.

"Yeah, it's just me!" He called back, the cacophonous clanking persisting as he removed a clean mug from the dishwasher and set the coffee machine whirring.

The brunette adjusted the, now creased, shirt from the previous night that she had slept in, rolling the sleeves up. Her black lacy underwear was visible from where she had undone several buttons before settling on the leather couch, cocooned in the neatly folded blanket that rested on the back of the chair.

Sam padded into the kitchen, raking her fingers through her hair subconsciously, when her fiancé spoke, "Sorry about the dish, it's probably about time we bought some new ones anyway."

Her blearily orbs followed his gesture, squinting to identify the dust pan and brush that had insensibly been discarded at the foot of the washing machine, containing the shards of smashed pottery. _The bang that had woken her up_. It was too early for her eyes to fixate on such fine detail. "Don't worry about it."

"So where did you disappear to last night? I thought you weren't coming home." The bread popped from the toaster and he began slathering a generous layer of butter and jam, "Coffee?"

"Oh, I went out with Jen and some of the others for a few drinks." She tucked a tousled lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head, "Jen's partner got called into work and she had tickets to some jazz club in town. So I went with her. It was late when I got home, hence why I slept in the living room. Didn't want to disturb you. Sorry, I should have called."

"As long as your safe you know I don't mind. It's great that you've made a friend at work, I know how worried you were when you first started." Mike ambled across the tiled kitchen, "Besides, I don't mind if I get to wake up to this view," Their lips collided and he pressed her gently against the counter, hands repositioning on her hips.

She gasped, tenderly responding to the initiated kiss, "Mm, we don't have time for this, you are going to be late for work if you don't hurry up." Her hands patted against his chest as she pushed him away, pacing towards the tap to dispense herself a glass of water.

"What are you doing today? We should really start looking into wedding plans if we want to get married next year."

Sam twisted the cold tap off, "uh, I'll start looking at venues later today. I'm going for a run first and I have a mountain of paperwork outstanding."

* * *

"Jen," She blew out a breath, cheeks delicately flushed a pinker shade, as she curbed her pace and braked to a halt in front of her cop partner, "You look like shit." Blunt yet spoken in a friendly manner, lips twitched into a smile and a thin laugh followed.

The blonde scowled with her hands stationed firmly on her hips, head marginally bowed as she inhaled deep breaths, "Thanks for that, Murray. You don't need to state the obvious." Her entire face was tinted with a flustered red, glowing brightly. Beads of sweat surfaced, rolling down her forehead and gathering at her brows. Tangled locks had been scraped messily into a ponytail, shorter strands escaping into a frizz.

"Nice hangover?" A smirked danced innocently on her lips as she propped herself against the brick wall and folded her muscular arms.

"Shut up." Jen muttered, grumbling as she massaged her throbbing head, "It's a total bitch of a hangover. I am never _ever_ drinking again." She had only been jogging for a fifteen minutes tops, but her drunkness aftermath had left her limbs feeling heavy and head fuzzy and painful. The fresh air was supposed to do her good, but currently she felt like she was dying.

"Can I have that in writing for the next time you decide to go clubbing?"

The younger cop glowered again, but the ominous expression was promptly replaced by a warm smile subsequent to fixating on Sam's infectious grin, "You know what, fuck running. The only way this hangover is gonna shift is with a double expresso coffee. And a sweet danish." She yanked her associate's arm and dragged her in the direction of her regular coffee shop.

They purchased their preferred beverages and sticky pastries, claiming a table next to the window and settling on the comfortable benches. "So, it's ten to nine on a Saturday morning, it's your day off and we were still out at two o'clock this morning. How come you are out running?" Their eyes briefly made contact as Sam tilted her head from concentrating on cutting her danish, "Because we all know you are _so_ not a morning person."

Jen jerked her shoulders, hands clasped firmly around the steamy mug as she inhaled the strong aromas of her coffee, the fragrant wisps tickling her nostrils sensationally, "I couldn't sleep." A tiny sip of the roasting liquid followed by an absentminded lick of the lips, "The flat's empty, bed's cold and lonely without Lisa. I thought I might as well get out and try and cure this hangover."

She nodded intently whilst stabbing her cinnamon swirl with a fork and lifting it to her mouth, "Fair enough."

"What about you then? Why are you up and about so early under similar circumstances to me?" It was the younger cop's turn to be curious now, recoiling the identical query back at her colleague for answering.

"I'm _always_ up early," The brunette corrected with a smug grin, swallowing some of her water from the bottle, "I slept on the sofa so I didn't disturb Mike as he's up early for work. But he woke me up when he surfaced anyway. There was no point going back to bed as I knew I wouldn't sleep, so I decided to ho for a run."

"How are you so fresh, though? Nobody would ever guess the quantity of alcohol you consumed last night. I feel like death warmed up!" A jealous groan hovered from her natural lips, elbows propped on the glass table top with a huff as she rubbed her pulsating temples.

"You look like death warmed up too." Sam added, snickering with a teasing smirk as her orbs glittered with intense amusement. But her sense of humour and tormenting only acquired her a playful slap and staring frown, " _hey_!"

The blonde repositioned her hands back around the mug and implored, "But seriously, how? Let me into your secret."

"There is _no_ secret." The words were immersed in a rich chuckle, "I drunk plenty of water last night and this morning - because ultimately the hangover is simply saying you're dehydrated. Of course, a couple of these often sort out any minor headache left.." She presented a foil packet of paracetamol and pushed it across the table, "Fresh air always makes me feel better, as does running."

"That's it?" The tablets were swallowed with a quick gulp of coffee subsequently to a scoff, "It can't be that simple."

Another nod as she popped the final piece of cinnamon danish into her mouth, "Yeah, it is."


	6. Chapter 6

_*a couple of weeks later*_

 _Rainbow Lust - Part 6_

"Bumble bar, attempted robbery. Statements need to be filed. You good to go?" Jen clicked her seatbelt into position securely and deposited her takeaway coffee into the cup holder in the door.

The brunette nodded sincerely, "As alway." Vehicle knocked into first gear, she released the clutch and stamped on the accelerator, speeding through the streets of Bradford to the location of the crime. Her partner responded to the shout via the radio system, accepting the call.

There was barely any traffic on the roads at that time of night; many were tucked up in their beds sleeping, the rest too drunk to even remember that they possessed a car. It was only a matter of minutes before the cop arrived at the destination, parking with precision beside the kerb. Both cops climbed out of the unmarked vehicle and entered the club.

They were greeted by a a relieved bouncer who introduced himself and guided them through the smouldering cluster of partiers to a corner where the heart of the trouble had assembled. The atmosphere was opaque, smoking with a haze of blazing lights in neon colours, radiating and glaring off the dingy walls in a corkscrew motion. Heavy music blasted from a DJ booth adjacent to the bar that was anchored to the back wall, piercingly strident. And the air quality was pitiable, fumed with stale booze.

Another bouncer accompanied a smaller collection of frustrated victims who had all claimed to had lost their wallets and purses. _Stolen_. They were an assortment of men and women, ranging in age. Some could be assumed to be regular clients to the bar, a few were dressed in fancy dress and appeared to be part of a stag do, then a couple sported expensive suits that did not correspond with the remainder of partygoers.

"Thank goodness you are here!" A lady released a sigh with a swirl of breath, fingers repeatedly scraping through her mass of wild, untamed blonde curls. _French accent_. "I need my purse, it contains my _passeport_! I fly home tomorrow."

In addition, a grumpy man muttered, "About time."

"I want that scum detained and my wallet returned!" The words were marginally slurred by the bloke wearing the cowboy attire, clumsily stumbling as her shifted from leaning against the wall to try and reinforce his point.

"Okay, we understand that you angry and irritated but we need you all to bask a calm demeanour. We intend - and hope - to reunite you with your missing garments as soon as possible." Murray's manner was harsh with stern authority, "We do offer our condolences for the inconvenience but in order to capture this thief we are going to require a description and statements of what happened."

Accounts and portrayals of the culprit's façade started to generate a visual imagine. A woman in her early-mid twenties with straggly black hair that was laden with grease. She was average height and well built, wearing an outfit of dark jeans and a heavy black coat with a hood edged with fake fur.

"Right, my colleague - Jen Smith - and myself with each individually interview you all and take an official statement. Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this and appropriate action will be enforced." The older police female declared.

The brunette's patience was being tested to the limits. Some of the unfortunate sufferers of the crime were plain ignorant and uncooperative. Exhaling a sigh, she rubbed her aching temples. Something that seemed so simple over the radio had evolved into something quite complex instead.

"Nobody of the description that fits our thief has left the bar. That means she must still be in here somewhere." The bouncer pointed out subsequently to conferring with his colleagues.

"Right," She blew out an exasperated breath. Disturbing the clubber's night to empty the place methodically in search of the offender was not something she fancied tackling, "Is there no other way out other than the main doors?"

"Not that can be used by the public, unless of an emergency."

Sam swivelled on her heels, studying the scene in front of her intently. Her azure orbs widened significantly, fixated on a contrasting feature that had abruptly immersed. The gleam of orange created by a street lamp streamed in, not complimenting the dusky them the club adopted.

She twisted her head to perceive the bouncer, "You mean, like, a fire exit?" He nodded, "Shouldn't that be alarmed?"

"It's broke."

Murray nodded, eyes squinting to scrutinise the doorway again. Shadows were cast, dark silhouettes of figures out in the back alleyway. _An escape route_. One of which fitted the female they were after. She stalked through the intoxicated swarms and to the fire exit.

"Police! Stop right there!" She yelled, rich with power and domination.

The wanted woman was there, engaged in a heated verbal conflict with two chunky men. Arguing over her poor findings during her rob. They were cornered in the alley. Only break aways available were past the cop or over the impossibly high mesh fence. Anyone who attempted to climb to freedom would fail at scaling the flimsy barrier.

Her lips twitched into a satisfying snigger as she blocked the lady's irrational tries to run away, "Not so fast," She pounced and restrained the culprit, snapping one cuff around her wrist, confident that Smith or a bouncer would follow shortly.

But before she was able to secure the other cuff, the two - harmless appearing - males were suddenly a threat, brutally yanking her to her feet, one seized her upper arm and the other tugged at her hair, hauling her off the thief. Sam was pinned cruelly against the brick wall with a strident thud. Meaty hands were clamped painfully tight around her shoulders, trapping her firmly.

Self defence instincts kicked in. She struggled beneath them, battling to free herself from the situation with punches and kicks. "Quit fighting you dirty little snitch." The particles of his breath suffocated her skin, the stench of foul cigarettes and the reek of booze smothering her nostrils. Her lips parted, as though she was about to speak, when a beastly fist contacted with force against her nose, initiating a potent flow of sticky crimson. Followed by a vicious slap to her cheek, jerking her head to the side with stun.

They bashed her head against the brick work, peeling a yelp from the brunette's lips. Without warning, they thrust her to the ground with a fierce crash, a hefty foot stamped on her side to ensure she couldn't escape. A bulky boot slammed into her front persistently, savagely assaulting her stomach and chest with callous blows. Her muffled cries of pure agony and the thick blood that dripped from her head and nose left them contented. And with that, the three criminals accelerated into a sprint for liberty.

Sam winced, teardrops prickling and glittering the edges of her eyes as she inhaled painful breaths. Her lungs were starved of sufficient oxygen and the sharp discomfort seared repeatedly through her stomach and the heavy ache to her ribs made it even more difficult to provide them with the craved substance. She could feel hot, syrupy blood trickling down the side of her face, staining the white collar of her shirt.

 _It would pass_. The cramping and smarting that tortured her stomach and chest was sure to subside soon. But it didn't. Her entire body ached tremendously and her head was starting to become incredibly fuzzy. With her final energy reserves, she coaxed herself into a sitting position, teeth gritted at the hurt.

Moments later, the pounding of footsteps approached, their voice swirling in a jumble in the brunette's vaguely conscious mind. "Sam?!" It was the voice of her buddy shouting, "Oh shit, no."

Jen darted to her partner's side and descended to her knees instantly, wrapping one arm around the older female who she quickly learned was bitterly cold. Her body temperature had plummeted, skin turning a pale grey as she went into shock. The cop's breathing was shallow; jagged and raspy.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam. Just stay with us." Her voice wavered, muted and feebler than she intended as she tried to soothe the distressed female. She radioed for an ambulance and another unit, "Help's on its way."

Slumped against the outer wall of the crumbling building, the brunette's head was dipped, orbs fluttering shut as the dark sensation that blurred her head loitered even closer, "She...they...they got...away," the words were muffled and garbled, drifting at the ends, "go...after them...go..."

"I'm not leaving you." That was a promise. Smith wasn't sure of much, but she was positive of that aspect. "Go wait for the ambulance and direct the paramedics." She bluntly instructed the bouncer who lingered uselessly by the door.

By the time the ambulance crew arrived, Sam had succumbed to the teasing temptations of unconsciousness. _The power too pungent and swamping_. Her neck and head were cleared of injury at the scene, excluding a moderate concussion. Pain relief was injected into her blood stream and various essential monitors hooked up to prepare her for her journey to hospital with intentions of keeping her as comfortable as permitted in her restless state. Jen conferred with her fellow officers before hopping into the patrol car and driving to Bradford City Hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

_Rainbow Lust - Part 7_

Machines bleeped in a regular rhythm, wires and cables hooked to her upper body, invading her personal space as they monitored her diligently. The stable beats were becoming increasingly irritating to her semi-conscious state, grating at her short fused nerves. Words exchanged by surrounding doctors and nurses were a jumbled garble that she couldn't decipher.

Their complex sentences were too confusing, individual words swimming hopelessly in her hazy mind. Sam was slowly becoming more cognisant to the nurse who wiped away the crusty blood from the side of her face and neck, then progressing to sterilise the source of blood. The repeated, sharp stinging sensation lured her from her slumber.

The cop was precipitously regained to a fully conscious state quicker than she had intended. Her sleepy, fluttering eyes were strained open, blinded by the uncomfortable glare of the dazzling lighting. A low groan vaporised from her now parted mouth, lips curling into a distressed wince.

A female doctor had been checking for broken ribs, "True ribs three and four on the left side, and rib five on the right side are definitely broken. Possible cracking to rib seven on the right also." Firm pressure had been applied to her abdomen after sticky crimson seeped through the white sheets, this time not originating from the facial lacerations.

The application of compression to her stomach had generated austere agony that the small dose of morphine didn't even touch. The irregular shooting pains that had torn through her abdomen had dulled slightly with the meds. Concern triggered, the doctor conferred with a colleague and shifted closer to her patient's face.

"Are you thinking underlying internal bleed?"

Glossy lips pursed, she shook her head, "Maybe, it's a possibility. But it could be something much less momentous that fits. She's a young woman."

"DC Murray, do you know where you are?" She spoke candidly, eyes flickering to the monitors briefly and fixating back on the unfortunate victim whilst adjusting the stethoscope that suspended around her neck.

Sam's vision was still marginally blurred, her head heavy and achy like the rest of her limbs, but the bland off white and dull grey walls were obvious. "Hospital." A mutter.

The woman nodded, heels clicking as she shuffled ardently, "You were involved in an attack, but don't worry, we'll soon have you back on your feet...Sam, I have to ask - is there any chance that you could be pregnant?"

The brunette's azure orbs expanded, freezing fleetingly as she twisted her head to the side and locked eye contact. Her breathing was temporarily paralysed, a sharp breath sucked in and not released as expected. There was an abnormal rise to her blood pressure as she swiftly shook her head, "N..no." Despite her best efforts to sound confident, the reply came as a feeble mumble of fear.

The consultant ran her tongue roughly over her lips, pondering momentarily, "Right, can I get an ultrasound machine in here please." She instructed pointedly to a junior and rotated back to the cop, "We'll assess your pain very soon and administer the drugs as appropriate, and move on to any other tests shortly. Our priority and aim is to get you as comfortable as we can, okay?"

* * *

Jen had finally been granted permission to go see her partner, discarding her takeaway coffee on the table of the relatives room and rushing to the room allocated to the cop. Police admitted to hospital whilst on the job were automatically authorised private rooms, the brunette no exception to that rule. She tentatively pushed the mechanised door open and quietly shut it behind herself.

"Sam...? It's just me. How you doing? I contacted Mike for you."

It was difficult to conclude whether the older woman was awake or sleeping; she was laid on her side with her back to the door, legs curled beneath her. The thin, scratchy sheet was tucked comfortable to her stomach, smooth milky skin of her toned back exposed from where the hospital gown had parted. Her dark, silky locks were splayed messily on the pillow.

There was a moments silence before Sam cleared her throat slightly and spoke, "Have they caught _them_?"

The blonde shuffled across the room. Soft, petite steps. "Uh..I don't know. I haven't checked in with them yet, I wanted to wait for an update on you first to report back."

Her head moved in acknowledgement, a poor resemblance of a nod. "I'm fine...just a few broken ribs, a sprained wrist and five stitches to my head." A lengthy sigh hovered from her dry lips as she made no effort to move. She desired to hide, concealing her face from her colleague. _Features and expressions that displayed the truth_.

"You'll be back on your feet again in no time then." The words danced cheerily from her lips as she tried to lighten the mood, pacing round to the other side of the bed whilst still talking, "Mike should be here soon, he said he was leaving straight away when I called."

Sam's body stiffened at the mention of her husband to be, head twisting as she attempted to bury her face in the feathery pillow and mask it from her fellow cop, "I don't want to see him." Her reply was barely audible through the muffled waves.

"Why? He's really worried about you. Genuinely very concerned." Lips twitching into a perplexed frown, Jen provisionally extended her arm and allowed the silky tips of her fingers to brush against the brunette's chin, imploring for her to look at her, "What's wrong?"

She reluctantly rotated her head, harrowed distress etched across her features. Her vacant, fearful orbs glittered with strained dismay; red and puffy from tears that had smudged the minimal mascara that enhanced her spectacular eyes, streaking it across the edges of her cheeks.

"I..I miscarried." _Choked_. Murray had suddenly found herself spiralling in an emotional turmoil, strangled by the brawny hands of submerging negative feelings.

Stunned momentarily, the blonde blinked repeatedly, eyes expanded in surprise whilst she faltered, "I had no idea you were pregnant. Sam, I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was muted and laced with compassion. The series of events that lead up to now would have been so different, to the extent that this situation would most certainly have been avoided.


	8. Chapter 8

_Rainbow Lust - Part 8_

Jen stepped into the home of her work colleague, gratefully shutting the door to block out the bitter autumn wind. The flurries of gusts had chilled her bones; she embraced the welcoming heat of the house. Murray had finally accepted her requests to meet up - the brunette's home the chosen location. Politely, the fiancé escorted her into the kitchen, tensely stealing glimpses towards the stairs for any indication of an appearance from his wife to be.

"Sam should be down soon, she was just finishing getting ready." Mike pottered around the kitchen, adjusting the neatly stacked pile of dirty plates and dishes that awaited their turn in the dishwasher, "Uhm..can I get you a tea or coffee? Water perhaps?"

"A coffee would be great, thanks. Black with one sugar."

Nodding meekly in acknowledgement, he set the coffee machine whirring, the echo of expresso beams grinding reverberating the ambience. Playing host was not his forte, he wasn't the chatty type and would soon be late for work. He gathered a cup from the mug tree, deposited a teaspoon of sugar into it and placed it beneath the machine's dispenser.

The blonde's fingers were entwined tightly around the steamy mug, inhaling the rich aromas of the roasting coffee that teasingly tickled the tips of her nostrils. "How's Sam doing?"

"Yeah, okay...I think." He failed to sound convincing, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers and gaze averted, "She doesn't like anyone making a fuss - but that's typical Sam. Still fiery and stubborn."

"I'm not swayed with confidence." Jen stated simply, orbs narrowed and brow puckered. She was trained to decipher deceit, pick out things that just didn't seem right and query them. That was partially her job, and those instincts never fully left anymore.

Shoulders jerked in the approximation of a shrug, "I hate seeing her in discomfort, yet she's refusing to take the medication the hospital gave her. Claims she doesn't need it. I don't know-" Mile ran his hand through his hair and glanced at the ticking clock, "I get the impression something's bothering her but she won't talk to me. I've really got to go, I'm going to be late for work. I'm sure Sam will be down soon, sorry-"

"No, no, no." The cop quickly interrupted understandingly, "You go, I'll try and talk to her."

* * *

The blonde tentatively ascended the stairs, gently tracing each individual step inaudibly - she didn't want it to seem as though she was prying and snooping. Her head twisted to the right, intently admiring the artwork that adorned the fresh white walls. A mixture of personal photography, nature landscapes and some abstract pieces.

There were an assortment of pictures of the engaged couple; some of them together, a couple alone and others with friends and family. In each image, the cop appeared so happy and lively. An infectious grin with her perfect, pearly white teeth displayed broadly, unruly chestnut-coloured locks blowing freely in the wispy off shore winds accompanying a holiday destination. _Pure innocence, flawless spirit._ Her unblemished skin glowed radiantly, hair shiny and silkily thick. Toned body attired with fitted clothing.

Soon professional photos from their impending wedding would be added, along with blissful honeymoon snaps. Lost in a daze, she forgot her impulse for serenity and stepped on a creaking floorboard. " _Shit_." Now it really did look like she was meddling - curiosity replaced with blunt nosiness - uninvitedly upstairs in her buddy's home.

"Jen?" Mellow and faint, the voice drifted through the air from behind the closed doors of the upstairs rooms.

Forehead creased tensely, she raked her hand through her blonde curls, "Yeah, it's just me." Pursed lips and a pause, "I..uh..I'll just go back and wait downstairs."

"No, it's fine." Sam responded coolly, discarding the intrusive behaviour. She could stay concealed within the safety of her bedroom all day, trying feebly to pluck up the courage to face the woman she had been purposely ignoring for no rational reason, and her colleague's persistent attitude wouldn't subside; she would still be downstairs whenever she finally surfaced. There was nowhere to hide. Jen was stubborn, a trait that she was equally fluent with. "You can come in. Second door on the left."

A brisk clatter reverberated the ambience as the brunette dropped the pot of lotion onto the side, the glass jar slipping from her greasy fingertips and landing with a strident clank. The younger female delicately open the instructed door, entering to see Sam shrugging her thick, fluffy robe around her toned frame tightly.

Her dark hair was damp, tangled and dishelved whilst curling into a natural flick at the very tips. Tossed onto the bed was a hairdryer, cord remained neatly wrapped up, as though instinct had occurred yet effort and energy failed. A healthy rosy red had returned to her cheeks and the cut to the side of her head was healing nicely. But the suturing was still prominent; nasty and raw compared to the rest of her milky skin.

"How are you feeling?" Jen broke the tense aura, northern accent dense yet laced with gracious compassion.

She dipped her head, staring at the padded carpet beneath her feet, "I'm fine...just edging to get back to work, you know." Shoulders twitched dismissively as she lifted her gaze again. She had always loathed the impending attention that accompanied injury.

"Really?" Brows puckered into a perfect arc, one eyebrow shot upwards as her features fixed a unconvinced expression, "Come on, Sam, you don't have to put up a front _all_ the time. It's okay to be sad..to grieve...and to admit if you need help."

"Help? I don't need any help." The brunette scoffed vaguely. _Defensive_. "Who says I need help?" Azure orbs narrowed scrutinisingly, she promptly answered her own question logically, "Bloody _Mike_."

"He's just worried about you!" The cop retorted swiftly, instantly regretting the harshness her tone had fleetingly adopted. Perhaps too harsh, "Sorry. We just...we all care and want to do whatever we can for you."

"And I'd prefer it if everyone would keep their noses out of my business."

"Sam.." She blew out a breath and cautiously stepped forward as the other female cringed while flopping back down onto the mattress, "He told me that you weren't taking the painkillers prescribed to you. No one is going to think any less of you taking them. Broken ribs can be incredibly sore. It's obvious that you are laden with discomfort."

"He had no right." Her anger accumulated, immersing her words as she scowled and twirled a loose thread from the duvet cover between her fingers, "It's just a few broken ribs, that's it."

The silence was basked, the bubbly blonde shifting to perch on the edge of the bed next to her police partner. A sigh hovered from Sam's lips, releasing the bottle fury, "The tablets make me drowsy. They make me sleep a lot. I'll never get signed fit for work whilst under the influence of them. They make me a liability. If I don't take them...prove I can cope without the painkillers. I'll get back to work quicker, which is ultimately what I _need_." A quiet mutter.

"Then why didn't you say so." She gently placed her hand on her buddy's shoulder, "There are plenty of other tablets that will take the edge of satisfactorily but not cause the fatigueness. Let your ribs and body heal, work can wait."

Sam's head snapped round to the side, shaking simultaneously, "Do you have any idea what it's like?! I've been stuck in this house for ten days. _Ten whole days._ Daytime tv is turning my brain to mush. Have you any idea how tedious _Loose Women_ and _Jeremy Kyle_ are? Hmm? I'm just here alone; me and my thoughts. Thinking about what happened. And that's the _worst_ part. I just want to get back to work, something to concentrate on. A for-filling distraction." Her hands had curled into fists, head tipped again as a glossy film formed over her pupils. Threatening tears.

Smith instantly descended to her knees in front of the brunette and entwined their hands in tight clasps, "Sam, it's okay." Tranquil and soothing. "It's understandable. How did Mike take the news about the..miscarriage? He seems to be handling it quite well?" She paused and awaited a response but the older woman just remained neutral, "Sam?" She prodded.

Weak and scarcely audible, "He doesn't know. I don't want him to know. I don't want his sympathy. He'd only feel like he was treading on eggshells and I'm not an invalid. I just want to move on." Inhaling a deep breath, she glanced up again, eyes glittering as one teardrop surfaced and rolled down her cheek. "I'll be okay, though. I'll get through this and return to work - even if it is office duties for a while."

"Yeah, you will. You are one of the toughest people I've met. You're just Sam Murray; brave and fearless." Jen concluded with a sad smile and embraced the other female into a friendly hug momentarily, "Now, I'm going to introduce you to Netflix and keep you company for the day. We can't have you getting too bored. Can I use your laptop?"

She nodded simply and gestured to where her laptop lay by the television on the table opposite the bed and cautiously regained her balance and shuffled to plug her hairdryer in. The winces and agony that scrunched her entire frame didn't go unnoticed, though. The blonde stood up and grasped the device from her, "Let me."


End file.
